


First Aid Man

by Bomani_Akila_Neteru



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Fic, Its beautiful and oh so terrifying, Kool Aid Man - Freeform, Poor First Aid, Ruined Paint jobs, Terror Twins are little shits, kool aid, oh yeah, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bomani_Akila_Neteru/pseuds/Bomani_Akila_Neteru
Summary: In which First Aid is the Kool-Aid man. And he saves the day in a spectacular way. Watch out Decepticons, it’s kool-aid drinkin’ time!





	First Aid Man

Recharge. It's the time when a Cybertronian rests and shuts down for a certain period of time. It's also, admittedly, when their most vulnerable. Thusly, it was the most opportune time for an ‘attack’ of sorts.  
At least, to the belief of the two trouble makers currently looming over a poor, unsuspecting Autobot’s berth. One slipped around to the other side, so they would both have ample room to work with, before grinning at the other. The wide, frightening smile was returned with a confident smirk, before the two bent down to get to work. The recharging bot would never even know what hit him.

XxX

Ratchet was irritated. No, irritated was too light of a word.

Ratchet was pissed.

All day, he’d had to deal with injury after injury; most of them completely idiotic and due to sheer stupidity! Of course that was nothing new. What WAS new was the fact that his second in command was missing. Jolt was fine and dandy as a stand in, but the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t as far along on his training as First Aid.  
And First Aid happened to be missing.

The CMO was ready to blow a gasket at this point.

In fact the words were starting to bubble to the surface, and his optics were just starting to white out when-  
“OH YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!” Whipping around, Ratchet found himself face to face with none other than the bot he had been missing all day. First Aid stood with a human pitcher of red liquid held betwixt his pointer finger and thumb, his other servo was held aloft in a thumbs up pose. Then, the CMO’s gaze drifted past the pacifist and to the ruined wall. There was a hole in the general shape of First Aid, and it was sufficiently destroyed, in his opinion. Beyond it, he could see small humans gaping up at the new entryway that had been crafted; too dumbfounded by the out of character behavior of the normally quiet and shy pacifist Autobot to say anything.

“What-” Ratchet took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “What do you think you're doing?” his voice may not have appeared as threatening as before; but it still held a certain element of rage beneath it. The medic was not to be trifled with. First Aid’s expression, though hidden behind a mask and visor, seemed to be of a large, almost creepy grin, if the way the sides of his head moved was any indication.  
“Drink the liquid of the gods’, ye fool!” The apprentice cried, and proceeded to fling the pitcher directly at his head.  
Ratchet had no time to move. Cold, sticky, sugary liquid splattered across the side of his helm, and glass tinkled down around his face in a poor imitation of rain.

“FIRST AID!!” The bellowing roar and whitened optics would have scared any ‘bot or ‘con into submission quickly. So it was no surprise to those within range that First Aid whipped around on his heel and took off like a bat out of hell. Whatever was going through his head, it was clear that he still had at least half a processor’s circuit of common sense left.  
The wrench that had reflexively been flung through the air, hit the side of the wall where the second in command of the med bay had been standing not a moment prior. Ratchet was left seething, wrench-less, his right shoulder filled with glass, and with the side of his normally white face stained bright red.

This was not shaping up to be a good day.

XxX

Optimus stared down in disbelief at the report in his hand. He shut his optics down for a moment and shuttered them before powering them back up and opening them. Nope, the data pad was still in his hand; and the words scrolling across it remained unchanged. His right servo came up to rub his temple- a headache was beginning to form, pounding just behind his optics.

Just what was going on?

The report itself was more of a list of complaints. They were from all over the base, describing a rather peculiar scene that Optimus had quite the time wrapping his head around. Apparently, First Aid was smashing through random walls- leaving huge holes in the base- and throwing human glass pitchers of ‘kool-aid’ at random bots. Not to mention the very uncomfortable and borderline sexual way he would yell ‘Oh yeah!’ as he burst in.   
Ratchet was, by far, the most vocal in his demands that SOMETHING be done; but that was no surprise. In close second was Ironhide, who went on about how sticky the damned human drink had left his cannons- not to mention how they had been stained.

Bright red, bordering on pink, wasn’t a good look. Not for Ironhide.

Prowl and Red Alert had glitched after being hit with the makeshift weapon, and were now in the med bay- Jazz was laughing his ass off, and Lennox was left utterly bewildered. Other random ‘bots around the base were now fearing for their lives and paintjobs; and the Prime could only wonder where the apprentice medic was going to strike next.  
It was a rather terrifying thought, he had to admit. But he could do nothing else until he knew where First Aid was.

He had mysteriously disappeared after his last victim- and that made Optimus far more wary than anything else.

XxX

The battle was a fierce one. All across the area, Autobots and Decepticons could be seen taking and receiving heavy weapon fire. Or, in some cases, exchanging blows with either fists or melee weapons. The Autobots had led the charge into the Decepticon base, as Sam had been kidnapped for some reason or another. Really, the boy couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble for more than five minutes.

Ratchet, for his part, was running ragged. He was at the end of his rope at this point. Though he had done his best to keep his teammates patched up and his med team supplied; he wasn’t used to having to do everything by himself. Make no mistake, however- Ratchet works his aft off. The CMO is one of the hardest working bots in the Autobot army. But everyone has their limits, and everyone needs help sometimes. And while he didn’t like to admit it, First Aid was Ratchet’s right hand man; he relied on him heavily.

With him missing, the head medic found himself falling a tad bit short and apart.

Ratchet ducked behind a large piece of furniture in the Decepticon base, a rain of laser fire just barely missing him as he took cover. Saw in one hand, pistol in the other, the medic squared his jaw and leaped up to fire back. He was only up for but a second before he was forced to crouch again, lest he want a few new holes in his helm and chest.  
He already sported a shot in his thigh and opposite shoulder, he didn’t need anymore; and though he had cut off the energon supply to those two areas to avoid losing anymore out the holes- even going so far as to completely reroute it all around them- he wasn’t going to hold out much longer.

Not that anyone else was doing much better, mind you.

Just when everyone thought the battle was lost and that poor Sam might be sacrificed in the war effort; there was a loud crashing noise. Everyone went still and quiet- startled by the sudden change and unable to see in the thick dust that rose from the new hole in the wall. Ratchet peaked over his cover, dread swirling in the pit of his tanks. Please, he mentally begged, please don’t let it be who I think it is.  
“Oooohhhh, yeah.” Oh no. No, no, no. He knew that voice, and knew it well. His worst fear had been confirmed in that moment; and Ratchet knew it was all going downhill from here.

Primus damn it all.

The dust cleared, revealing a creepy looking First Aid. Though Ratchet wasn’t sure how he managed it; he looked the same as always, after all. Still, he was… intimidating. Despite being a pushover and a pacifist. Then again, the medic reminded himself, this didn’t seem like the normal First Aid he was used to. No, this was… someone strange, deranged almost. Like a split personality sent here from Unicron.  
But there was something different about his second in command. Instead of the tiny human sized pitcher of red liquid he usually flaunted, he now held a large, Cybertronian sized one. It was unsettling, how full and red and sticky it looked.

Ratchet quickly ducked back behind his cover. No way in the pit was he getting hit with that.

The others were on their own.

Megatron blinked at the new arrival; then gaped a little at the huge hole he had left in his so called ‘impenetrable’ base. That was metal that not even Ironhide could blast through with his cannons; so how in the hell-?!  
“What in the name of Primus?” The warlord’s snarl went unanswered. Instead, First Aid decided to step further into the room, the hand holding the pitcher of deadly human drinking beverage coming up above his head.  
“DRINK THE RED LIQUID OF THE GODS! DRINK IT I SAY!” The roar was all the warning Megatron got before the whole thing was flung at him. In the next instant, crimson stained his normally gray paint job, turning it an unattractive shade of pink.

The Decepticon let out an enraged roar; no longer befuddled and now just straight up pissed off. But he never got a chance to attack back. First Aid was already pulling out more fully filled pitchers of the same size from his subspace and flinging them at all the Decepticons. They yelped and screamed, throwing up their arms and diving for cover from the rain of deadly acid that was ‘kool-aid’.

Surprised at first, but not about to let the opportunity slip past; Optimus grabbed Sam and made a run for it, calling for a retreat as he went. The Autobots didn’t hesitate to follow him, not wanting to be left alone with the terror known as First Aid.

They willingly left the apprentice there with the Decepticons.

XxX

It had been two days since the ‘incident’ as the base called it. No one seemed willing to talk about it, and even less wanted to mention First Aid’s name. Ratchet honestly didn’t know if he’d ever see his apprentice again. But was equally startled and pleased to find him- not a few hours later after the thought- glitched and passed out in front of the med bay doors. Grumbling to himself quietly, Ratchet grabbed onto First Aid’s upper arms and dragged him into his lair. Throwing him up onto the nearest berth, the CMO quickly got to work, not knowing how long the little shit would stay passed out like that.

Now that First Aid was holding still, it didn’t take Ratchet long to locate the problem.

A chip had been lodged in the back of the med student’s processor; programmed with a set of overriding instructions. Within a few minutes, Ratchet had it removed and was examining it for its origins.  
“I swear to Primus.” The hiss would have made anyone near the CMO recoil and flinch, “I’m going to turn them into fragging human sparkling toys.” Disposing of the chip, the medic began patching his second in command up.

Then an idea came to him.  
A wonderful, absolutely terrifying idea.  
He set to work with a dark grin twisting its way onto his face.

Vengeance would be his.

XxX

First Aid felt strange when he came online at last. It felt like he had been recharging for ages. Last he remembered, he was helping Ratchet in the med bay and preparing for the next day, and then he went to recharge- no. No. There was something more there.  
Confused, the pacifist proceeded to check through these strange memory files he didn’t remember having. Horror descended upon him as he onlined his optics.

Med bay. He was in the med bay.

Relief- sweet and cool- washed over him. He could remember slamming through random walls with strength he didn’t know he had, and throwing things at people; he had fully expected to be somewhere still doing that. At least now he seemed to be in full control.  
Mental evaluation complete, First Aid sat up and began looking himself over. For the most part, he seemed just fine, which only added to his relief.  
“Good, you're awake.” The gruff, familiar voice had him jumping in surprise,  
“Ratchet?”  
“The one and only. How you feelin’?” The CMO leaned against his berth, looking at him with a seriously serious gaze.

“Well, I feel in order.” First Aid fidgeted, guilty, “Ratchet, I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean-”  
“It's fine.” Ratchet held up a hand in response to quiet the other Autobot, “Someone implanted a chip in your processor. You didn’t know.” he pulled back and turned around, heading to the other side of the med bay, “Since you're feelin’ fine and everything seems to be in order, you can help me out with this procedure.”  
The apprentice swung his legs off the side of the berth and got to his feet,  
“Yes sir.” he couldn’t help his relieved smile.

It was good to be back to normal and back to work.  
He would have to apologize to everyone as he went along…

XxX

Ratchet didn’t expect them to show up so soon.  
Granted, it had been a few hours, but still. Were they really so foolish as to- ah. That was the reason. The CMO had to hold in a chuckle as the terror twins of the base stumbled into the med bay, over the threshold. Sideswipe’s arm was welded to Sunstreaker’s, and it looked like they’d been stuck like that for quite a while yet. Too bad for them, they wouldn’t be getting treatment. At least, not for awhile.  
And it didn’t look like the extent of the welding was anything they could undo themselves. It raised the question as to how they ended up in their situation.

But Ratchet didn’t care at that moment. Instead, he leaned back to watch the show unfold, fighting a grin.

First Aid turned and seemed to smile at the newcomers from behind his mask.  
“Welcome-” He froze as he laid optics on the two, and his whole form seemed to jerk sharply to a halt. The terror twins exchanged a confused, half terrified look before turning back to him. First Aid’s visor had dimmed for a brief moment; but then lit up again, as if nothing had happened. There was silence for a minute; a minute that had Ratchet borderline fidgeting.

“DRINK THE NECTAR OF THE GODS YOU HEATHENS! IT WILL GIVE YOU THE TOUCH! IT WILL GIVE YOU THE POWER!” First Aid’s fanatical screaming caught both brothers off guard. Sideswipe yelped and made for the door, but was dragged back and slowed down by a startled Sunstreaker. They got hit by a Cybertronian sized pitcher filled with red liquid as a result.  
“MY PAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNT!” Sunny was then out the door quicker than you could say ‘go’, Sides getting dragged along behind him like a toy wagon.

Ratchet fell on his aft cackling like the madman he is.

No one messes with the CMO, his staff, or his med bay. No one.

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooooooh, yeah~!


End file.
